


When the Coffee Mug Breaks

by koiisbatman



Series: Coffee Shop Saga [3]
Category: Psych
Genre: Angst, Case Fic, M/M, Serial Killers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-21
Updated: 2018-12-09
Packaged: 2019-03-21 23:19:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13751313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/koiisbatman/pseuds/koiisbatman
Summary: Carlton has never been happier. He's got a new home, a hot husband, and his arrest record has never been more impressive. Now he's just waiting for the other shoe to drop. When a serial killer with a fascination in Shawn surfaces in Santa Barbara, Carlton can't shake the feeling that his happiness is going to come to an abrupt end.[ Part 3 of Coffee Shop Saga ]





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Well look at that ... A third part to the saga! I was working on two other fics when I couldn't get this idea out of my head, so I decided to just go ahead and write it! This will be a multi-chapter fic, instead of just one like Part 2. This could probably technically be read on its own, but I highly recommend reading the first two parts to understand everything (instead of my mini summary).

_ Don’t let him be dead. Don’t let him be dead. _

It was the mantra screaming through Carlton’s brain as he ran through the damp alleyway towards his destination.

_ He can’t be dead. Don’t let him be dead. _

He was running out of time and he knew it. If he had just listened. If he had just stopped for one goddamn minute and listened to what Shawn had been saying. What Shawn had told him …

He wouldn’t be running through this shithole of an alleyway, praying that his husband was alive.

 

*******

 

Carlton had been through all of this before. The wedding, the honeymoon, and now the beginning stages of wedded bliss. He only hoped it didn’t end the same way, x amount of years in the future with his heart broken into tiny bits.

Four years.

It had been four years since Carlton had agreed to take Shawn Spencer as his ‘boyfriend’ to a law enforcement retreat. Not that he had had any choice. He’d made the mistake of saying he’d been dating someone four months prior to that (something that had been a total lie) and Chief Vick had signed him and his ‘mysterious partner’ up. When he told the annoying barista at his favorite coffee shop this, it set in motion a series of events which led to Carlton and Shawn tying the knot. They had their ups and downs; including the time that everyone had found out the ‘first’ several months of their relationship had actually been made up.

Carlton was sure that he’d never hear the end of that.

It had taken him a while, but Carlton had finally figured out how Shawn was able to pull off the psychic schtick (after many aborted attempts by Shawn to tell Carlton). With that, Shawn had agreed to marry the head detective and after months of planning, they finally had their wedding (Juliet had been thrilled to be Carlton’s Best Woman as Shawn had once predicted) and had gone on a Hawaiian honeymoon. Once they’d returned, and after an unfortunate incident wherein many of the criminals Carlton had put away found out where he lived, they found a new, larger home (Shawn had been okay with this and had insisted the old house was haunted, so it was a good thing they left; Carlton had his suspicions that the restaurants near the new house had more to do with it than the old house being haunted).

They fell into a routine.

Carlton had reassured Shawn that he wouldn’t turn him in for fraud. After all, Shawn had  _ done _  police work … Sort of. He’d found the proper evidence, at the very least. Shawn could do his psychic performance at work for everyone else (with Carlton playing his part of rolling his eyes and insisting that Shawn wasn’t a psychic), but he was supposed to be completely honest with Carlton. As soon as he could, he was supposed to explain what it was he saw and then they were supposed to discuss all theories and angles as a team. It  _ worked _ . Carlton had actually been surprised at how easily it all clicked together into a smooth-running machine. Sure, there were times when Shawn took leaps that Carlton just could not accept, even after sitting down and explaining it (sans fake psychic bullshit) and  _ those _  were the times that Shawn usually did something reckless that ended him up in a hospital or some other hot water that Carlton had to rescue him from. However, most of the time, they were able to catch the bad guy in record time. Carlton had thought his arrest record was impressive before, but now it was just astonishing. Shawn was even teaching him some tricks.

So naturally, Carlton was waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Even with the times they bickered, everything was perfect. Carlton was happier than he’d ever been when he was with Victoria. Hell, he was even content in his position as head detective. Things never went this way for him, there was always something lurking around the corner.

“Laaaaassie,” came the whine from his lap. Carlton looked down to see Shawn looking up at him from where he’d laid his head. “Stop thinking so hard. It’s distracting from the movie.”

“That makes no sense, Shawn.”

“It does too,” he said before sitting up and pausing the movie. Waving his hands in a ‘bring it’ fashion, he looked at his husband. “Alright. Lay it on me. What’s gnawing at your brain?”

“It’s nothing.”

An obnoxious buzzer sound made Carlton scowl more. “ _ Wrong _ ,” Shawn said. “Try again.”

Watching Shawn, he finally took a deep breath and sighed, body sagging slightly. “I’m waiting for the bad to come.”

“The … bad?” He asked, “We moved out of the old house … The bad guys aren’t going to show up. I mean, unless they’ve been trailing you, but let’s be honest, they could probably do that no matter where we go and I really don’t feel like moving aga--”

“That’s not what I meant,” He said to cut off Shawn’s rambling. “Everything right now is just so good … I feel like any minute now something bad is going to happen.”

Shawn let out a long suffering sigh. “ _ Carlton _ . While normally, I would totally tell you to trust your gut instinct ‘cause it’s usually right, I think you’re just being paranoid this time. You and I? We’re fine. Actually, scratch that. We’re  _ more _  than fine, we’re supercalifragilisticsexyalidocious.”

“I don’t think that’s how that goes.”

“I’ve heard it both ways. Regardless, we’re doing great. Work is going great for us. There’s no danger, other than the usual, on the horizon … Just don’t worry your pants off. Unless we’re going to the bedroom. Then you can worry them right off your body and leave the worry with the pants,” He said with a wink.

Rolling his eyes, Carlton pulled him in for a tender kiss. “Thank you, Shawn.”

“Hey, there’s nothing you need to thank me for.”

“Still.”

Shawn plopped back down into his spot, starting the movie once more. “Alright. No more thinking. Movie watching only.”

“Whatever you say,” he responded with a chuckle. His hand found his way into Shawn’s hair, playing with it as he tried to focus on the movie. He wanted nothing more than to just forget that quiet whispering in his gut that told him something bad was on its way.

A week later, Carlton found himself scowling in the general direction of McNab (seriously, how could he  _ still _  get Carlton’s coffee wrong after all these years) when the Chief knocked on his desk.

“Carlton. My office. Now.”

His head shot up and he nodded quickly. Perfect. Hopefully she had a case that was better than the last two he’d been forced to work on. One had been a case of mistaken identity and the other had been a fraud case. Even Shawn had groaned and told him to leave him out of it when he asked what Carlton was up to.

Making his way to Chief Vick’s office, he found his partner already sitting in one of the chairs. Closing the door behind him, he took his seat.

“Lassiter. O’Hara,” she started, taking a deep breath. “I’m sure you’ve noticed a few of the cases the department has gotten in the past few months have been highly suspicious. They weren’t under your caseload but, as my best detectives, I want to reassign it to the two of you.” Karen paused as she handed them each a folder. “At first, it didn’t seem as though these killings were connected, but now we’re sure of it. The first vic, Alyssa Thompson, was gunned down six months ago, we believe somewhere on her way home from work. No one was able to determine the original area she was shot; she was found in her own home in bed as if nothing had happened. She wasn’t found until some of the guys stopped by on a welfare check. There were no fingerprints or any other kind of evidence found at the scene. The killer had clearly killed her outside of her home somewhere and carefully carried her into her bedroom without leaving a trail of blood or other evidence.”

Flipping to another sheet, Carlton frowned as he saw a new face staring up at him. “Vic number two, Sheila Nausbaum. One month later. Stabbed somewhere outside of her home. Found, just as Alyssa Thompson, in her bed as if nothing had happened. No blood trail, no evidence. She was found later when neighbors complained of a bad smell in her home.”

Going through the victim list, ten in the past six months with the three (two males and one female) most recent in the last month, Karen paused. “I believe we have a serial killer on our hands.” As much as Carlton didn’t want to get excited at the thought, it was hard not to be thrilled that it wasn’t another fraud case. However, as the Chief looked at him, he felt his blood run cold. “There’s one last thing. This was found on the last body. It’s the only thing that’s been distinctly different from the other crime scenes.” Pulling out a piece of paper with a photograph on it, she slid it towards the two detectives.

In the evidence photo, a newspaper clipping with a story featuring Shawn Spencer smiled up at him; a heart drawn in blood surrounding the picture of his husband.

The head detective felt sick. Karen frowned as she looked at the image. “The blood was tested; it’s victim number ten - Rhys Williams’ - blood. At some point the killer collected his blood and used it like paint to draw that heart.”

When Carlton looked up, Karen was looking directly at him once again. “I know that you are too close to this … But I also know that, despite our best efforts, Mr. Spencer will inevitably find his way onto the case. You two are my best detectives. I need you on the case; and I need you, Carlton, to keep an eye on Shawn. He listens to you. Since we have no leads, we could use his … expertise ... before he invites his way in on the case.”

“Chief …” Carlton began before he was cut off by the door opening.

Shawn stumbled into the office, looking around as though he were confused as to why he was there. “The spirits are saying you have something big for me, Chief ... Oh hey Lassie!”

Carlton frowned as he saw Shawn squirming; the urge to plop down in Carlton’s lap was probably overwhelming, but the psychic had been rather good about keeping their public displays of affection away from their workplace. Karen nodded in response to his comment. “I do. Detective Lassiter will fill you in on the case. I don’t need to remind you that safety is of the utmost importance, do I?”

“Nah, I’m used to the speech,” Shawn responded, giving her a lazy salute. “We go over it anytime you have something big and juicy you need my talents for.”

“This might be the biggest case we’ve needed you for, Mr. Spencer.”

“Well in that case, I need to steal Detective Lassiepants here so I can find out what all the hullaballoo is because this case is sounding better and better by the minute.  _ Way _  better than the grilled cheese caper.”

“Grilled cheese caper?”

Shawn shrugged, “Someone kept stealing my grilled cheese. Come to find out, it was Gus. The dirty thief.”

The Chief looked at Carlton, who simply shrugged. This was the norm for him. Karen looked back at Shawn, “ … Right … Well, Detective Lassiter will fill you in on the case. Remember: you are a  _ consultant _ , not a detective. You’re not doing the footwork that Detectives Lassiter and O’Hara or even Officer McNab do.”

“Okay …” He said, face suspicious as she dismissed the three of them. Following Carlton back to his desk, he plopped down on the corner. “Okay. What is it. Why is the Chief giving me the lukewarm third degree?”

“How can you be both lukewarm and third degree, Shawn?”

Waving his hand to dismiss the comment, he frowned some, “This case has something to do with me, doesn’t it? It’s something serious enough that the Chief wants me in on, despite it concerning me enough that she has to warn me to be safe. So … Spill, Carlton. Who wants me dead?”

The seriousness with which Shawn spoke threw Carlton off. He knew that Shawn had a serious side; that it  _ was _  possible for Shawn to stop with the jokes and to focus on the serious, often deadly, situation at hand, but whenever it happened, it always caught him off guard. Those times were usually when someone close to him was in danger or when his mind finally caught up with him and reminded him of all the bad things in the world. Carlton supposed those both came with the profession. Those nights, for him, typically involved silent contemplation with a glass of good scotch.

Going over the case file with Shawn, he made sure to lay out each of the file pictures, knowing that he would more than likely find some gem in them.

“So we think this possible serial killer has some sort of infatuation with me?”

“Unless you can think of another reason that someone would draw a heart around your picture  _ in blood _ ?”

Humming in thought, he continued to read over the case files. “It seems this person prefers to stab rather than shoot his victims. They’re so careful about not leaving any evidence behind …” Shawn murmured to himself. After a bit, he gave a nod, “Alright. Well … We need to get my handsome mug in the newspaper some more.”

“We  _ what _ ?”

“You heard me, Carly!” He said grinning. “The only thing this person has left at the scene is this newspaper clipping with me on it.  _ Clearly _  they’re either trying to impress me or send a warning. Considering they’re setting up this perfect mystery of a crime scene and they actually  _ left _  something, I’m going to go with my gut instinct that they’re trying to get my attention and give me a challenge.”

Carlton frowned as he thought it over. That made sense. It also made him even more uncomfortable with Shawn being involved in this case. What they needed to do was protect Shawn at all costs, not put him in the newspapers as bait.

“It looks like he--or she, but it’s so much easier to say he--ramped up his killing timeline lately. That, plus the newspaper clipping … I think they’re getting impatient. They’ve been setting up the perfect scene for … How long again?”

“Six months,” Carlton responded, knowing full well that Shawn remembered what he’d already read in the case file.

“Six months and I haven’t paid any attention to what is pretty obviously connected cases. Seriously? None of you picked up on this before?”

“It wasn’t part of O’Hara and I’s caseload. If it was, we would have been on it.”

“Right … Well, they’re getting impatient. So, if I solve some more unrelated cases, as if I didn’t know about  _ this _  case,” Shawn said, pointing to the case file. “And they catch word that I’ve solved more cases, then they’re going to make another move while they're either annoyed that I haven't been brought in on their case or pissed that I'm ignoring them. And when they do, they’re going to slip up. Emotions are a bitch when you’re a criminal.”

Carlton sighed. Shawn had a point. A point and a pretty good plan, for now. Glancing back at Shawn, who still had that grin plastered on his face, he gave a shrug, giving in to his husband’s plan.

“Alright … Let me see your caseload and then we can get the Chief to let me in on some of these cases … After a little  _ spiritual intervention _ .”

“Later. At home,” Carlton said. “In the meantime, go get us smoothies.” He smiled at the way that Shawn lit up, jumping to his feet as he began to ramble on about some new flavor he wanted to try as he wandered off.

Carlton really wished he could shake the feeling that the other shoe was finally about to drop and his happy ending was about to go up in smoke.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my gosh ... I am so sorry for being so delayed in posting this. Work got extremely hectic and I had no time to do anything other than work and sleep. I'm hoping to post a lot quicker, but odds are I wont be able to post as quick as I used to (weekly or less) since I have a lot more responsibilities at work and outside of the job. I swear that I'm not going to abandon this story ... It just might take a little longer than planned to complete, haha. So ... Thank you for sticking with me (if you have) and I promise I wont leave you hanging!

Carlton couldn't help but feel proud of his husband, seeing his grinning face staring up at him from several newspapers; at the same time he was terrified. This was all bait for some killer and while Shawn seemed to have forgotten what the original intent of putting his face out in the newspapers was, Carlton couldn’t forget. He was trying not to play the overprotective husband card, but the more time that passed, the more worried he got. It had been nearly three weeks since the last murder and the beginning of their campaign to solve as many murders with the department’s psychic consultant, so Shawn could be in the newspaper, and no one had seen anything remotely similar to the killer’s style. He felt as though it was only a matter of time before Shawn went to get smoothies and didn’t come back.

Despite knowing they were waiting for the killer to make a move, Carlton still was not expecting his phone to ring early on Saturday morning; caller ID flashing ‘JULIET O’HARA’.

“Lassiter,” he grumbled into the phone, half awake as Shawn buried his face in Carlton’s side to try and chase the last bits of sleep he could get.

“Carlton. We’ve got another one,” she said. “You’re not going to like this.”

He was sure he wouldn't. “Text me the address.”

Hanging up once he got the affirmative, he leaned down to kiss the top of Shawn’s head. “We need to get dressed.”

A whine came from the mop of hair, “Do we  _ have _ to?”

“Yes. It sounds like our killer struck again. Now get up before I take all the covers away and you’re left to the cold,” Carlton said, getting up to head to the shower as he ignored Shawn’s protests.

By the time he finished with his shower and trudged out to finish dressing, Shawn was already dressed and making coffee. When Carlton joined him, he handed the detective a small travel mug (of course, it was the obnoxious green one with gold pineapples that he hated but begrudgingly used more times than his plain silver one) of the dark fuel. “Are you ready?”

“Hey, this is what we’ve been waiting for, right? Sooner we get this done, the quicker we can get back to arguing whether Die Hard is a Christmas movie or not.”

Carlton rolled his eyes at the comment regarding their argument from the previous night as he led Shawn to his car, then to the address that had been texted to him. Upon arriving, Carlton felt he was almost struggling to keep a grip on his emotions. He was terrified and nervous as to just what he was going to find when they went in. If this case had nothing to do with to do with Shawn, he knew the present churning of emotions would be absent. At least he could thank O’Hara for warning him that he wasn’t going to like whatever it was; not that he generally liked what he saw when walking into a crime scene.

Leading Shawn into the quaint home, a shudder ran through him and that familiar nagging sensation that the other shoe was ready to drop returned full force. 

From the outside, everything looked normal. The inside of the house, however, was a horror movie. A trail of thick, dark blood led from the front door to a back room. Blood was splattered on the walls as if someone had let in a wet dog who shook himself free of the moisture or as if someone took a paintbrush full of paint and flung it here and there. As morbid as it sounded, none of that phased Carlton like what he’d seen leading him in to the back room.

Hanging from the ceiling in a trail-like formation, following the blood trail, were several newspaper clippings of the recent cases that Shawn had completed, once more with hearts around Shawn’s face. Following the trail, Carlton stopped dead in his tracks once he entered the back room. The color drained from his face and he felt bile rising in his throat. A rookie investigator, who looked as green as grass, covered her mouth and nearly dropped the camera she’d been using to take crime scene photos, before running out past Carlton and Shawn, bumping shoulders with Shawn.

“Uhm … Can someone go check on her?” Shawn asked, flinging a thumb over his shoulder in the direction she’d run, never turning his eyes off the scene in front of him.

The body of a man laid on the bed, front ripped open brutally with his insides very much on the outside. The bed was coated in blood, dripping down onto the floor. The pictures hanging from the ceiling were what caught Carlton’s eyes and kept them in place.

They were pictures of Shawn.

Photographs taken within the last few weeks.

One showed Shawn coming out of the smoothie joint. Another with Shawn and Gus eating ice cream on the pier. Another with Shawn leaving the station. Another with Shawn on his bike. Shawn’s day to day life was caught in what seemed like a hundred pictures hanging from the ceiling. 

On each photograph, over the Shawn frozen in time, was a bloody hand print.

Shawn’s eyes darted around the room, taking in the scene. He frowned some as they caught on something. Bringing his hand up to his head, he made the other hand shake, “A-Ahhh … The spirits … They won’t stop with my hand. I’m dead but my hand keeps moving!” He slammed his hand against his chest, over and over again in different spots. “The hand prints! They’re not our killers! Oh no no, that would be too easy for us to start guessing who they are! The hand prints are the victims! The killer used the victim’s blood and hand like some sort of Macarena stamp!”

“I think you mean macabre,” Carlton muttered, still taking in the fact that the killer had been following his husband around; even capturing one of their dates on film. A picture of the two of them in a restaurant standing out to him.

“The spirits got a little mumbly there … I definitely thought they said Macarena. Y’know … Hand motions and all that …”

“He’s right, Carlton,” Juliet said, using a gloved hand to hold up the victim’s hand, showing his palm was bloody. 

“Did anyone find anything else?  _ Any _ evidence?!” Carlton growled out. “You all have been here for at least an hour.”

Juliet sighed as Shawn began to walk around. “It's just as clean as the other sites … We haven't found a hair or a footprint. This guy is careful …”

Just as Carlton opened his mouth to spit out that everyone slipped up at some point and that there was no such thing as a perfect killer, Shawn piped up. “Oh but he's not! Not this time! The scoundrel unfortunately misstepped and the spirits ratted him out.” Carefully tripping around the room so as to not disturb anything but still look as though the ‘spirits’ were carrying him away, he pointed at something on the far side of the room, near the edge of the bed. 

Coming around the corner, Carlton eyed where the male pointed. There, in the blood, was a heel print from what looked to be a large man’s shoe. Immediately, he pointed to it. “You guys have been here for this long and every single one of you missed this?! What do we pay you guys for?!”

The nearest members of the forensics team jumped into action, moving over to quickly tag the objects as Carlton placed his hands on his hips, wandering back and forth, frustrated. Shawn moved over to him, his hand resting on Carlton’s shoulder. The tension drained out of the detective as he felt the weight of his husband’s hand. 

“Hey, we’ll get them, Carlton,” He said with a small, reassuring grin.

He nodded, turning back to the officers and forensics teams, “I want all of this evidence on my desk by lunch.”

Watching them scramble to get everything done as per protocol, he led Shawn out. Pulling him off to a corner, he asked in a hushed whisper, “Was there anything else you ‘saw’?”

Shawn looked back into the room before closing his eyes. It was a process that Carlton was familiar with by now and he wondered how he never noticed it before. He knew that Shawn was walking through every inch of that space in his mind and it both amazed and astonished Carlton to no end that he had those skills.

“I’m actually not completely convinced that heel print was accidental.”

“How not convinced?”

“Eighty-twenty it was placed there on purpose,” Shawn said. “It just doesn’t make sense for someone so meticulous with their crime scenes. Because I’m ignoring them, they went from zero to a hundred  _ real _ quick and this also  _ happens _ to be the crime scene that we find evidence at?”

Carlton took this evidence in, frowning as he wandered back and forth in thought. He caught Juliet’s attention, “How was this called in?”

Pulling out her notepad, she looked over the details she’d gathered. “There was a text message to 911 stating that someone at this location was in danger and couldn’t talk on the phone, thus the text feature. Officers arrived, didn’t hear anything, came around the side and saw part of the scene through the bedroom window. They knocked down the door and called it in as soon as they saw the entryway.”

“It was only a matter of time before someone abused the text system …” Carlton practically growled out.

“But … That means they should have been able to trace the cell phone, right?” Shawn asked as his mind ran. “There wasn’t a cell phone in the room …”

“O’Hara, see if you can get a lock on where that phone is now … Whether it’s switched off, on, travelling …  _ something _ .” Carlton watched as she nodded before hurrying off with her own phone to try and get the right people on the case. Shawn had turned back to pacing before peeling off to look at the rest of the house. “Shawn?”

“We’re not seeing the whole picture. There’s something we’re missing,” He said quietly. “There’s something else they want us to see … That they want  _ me _ to see. The bedroom was for the cops, but there’s something here for  _ me _ . Something that only I would ‘see’. Almost like a test?” A short chuckle bubbled up, “I hate to see what happens if I fail.”

Carlton frowned but followed him around the house. Coming to a linen closet, Shawn nearly passed it before stopping, tilting his head ever slightly in thought. “Carly, you got gloves?” He held his hand out for them, keeping his eyes on something that had piqued his attention, as the detective snagged a couple pairs from one of the forensics guys. Shawn slipped on the nitrile gloves before carefully opening the closet door to make sure that he didn’t smudge any fingerprints that might have made their way on the handle. 

Inside, the closet looked normal, as the outside of the house had, but Shawn could see the slight change in the back wall, indicating that there was a space cut out then replaced and lazily repaired. Pulling out a small pocket knife, he cut along the edges and popped the square out.

“Bingo …” Shawn said, grinning as he found a small box with a post-it on top; his name written on the post-it in chicken scratch that he assumed belonged to the killer.

Carlton tried to lean over to see what he had found, stopping when he saw Shawn tense up when he opened the box. “What is it, Shawn?”

“Not good, Lassie … Not good at all …”

Turning, Shawn showed him the contents and Carlton’s blood ran cold. 

“ _ Shit _ …”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the comments and sticking with the story! I 100% promise that this story will have an ending! I don't plan on abandoning it at all. Unfortunately, real life has just been very, very crazy lately (including learning and portraying three different characters for three different performances all within a week). Good news is, I'm almost done writing this! Meaning, the story should hopefully conclude by Christmas!
> 
> Again, thank you all so much for all the comments! I love reading them and they are always a massive motivator! I loved hearing everyone's reactions to the cliffhanger from the last chapter (and I hope I don't disappoint ~too~ much with what's in the box). Honestly, I think this part to the saga/trilogy has so many more cliffhangers than the previous ones ... So be prepared!

Carlton had been prepared for anything. Or, at least he thought he had been. He had prepared for some sort of jealous ex-lover, or a criminal they had put away, even a scorned grocery bagger.

This … This was something he was completely unprepared for.

Shawn picked up a few of the pictures inside the box with his gloved hands, looking them over. The photos were dated and all of them included Shawn and Carlton.

Shawn serving Carlton coffee as the detective scowled at him. Four years ago.

Carlton scowling at Shawn who had a ridiculous neck pillow on, clearly ready for a road trip.

Carlton pinching the bridge of his nose as Shawn looked on smugly. Shawn’s first case as a consultant.

Carlton leaving the restaurant after seeing that Shawn was part of the blind double date; Shawn’s shocked face watching him from inside.

Shawn washing off chalk on the driveway as Carlton gets out of his car.

Shawn being carried over the threshold of their house, like he begged for. One of the compromises Carlton had made when it came to their wedding plans.

Their last anniversary dinner at Giuseppe’s Fine Italian Cuisine.

Lunch two days ago on the pier.

“They’ve been watching,” Carlton managed to get out after he took in all the pictures.

“From the  _ beginning _ . For  _ years _ …” 

Carlton frowned, continuing to shuffle through the stack of photographs. If the pictures were taken by friends, they would have been something that he cherished. He could see how his face changed from loathing being in Shawn’s presence to looking at him fondly any time he was around Shawn. Instead, this had been someone else. Someone had been watching them--watching Shawn--from the very beginning. If he were being honest, the person had probably been watching them since  _ before _ Carlton fell into league with Shawn. He tried not to let this stalker taint the memories within the images.

“So I’ve got a stalker,” Shawn said, trying to sound casual, but Carlton caught the slight waver in his voice.

Immediately, Carlton reached out with his free hand, placing it on Shawn’s shoulder. “We’re going to find out who it is.”

Shawn gave a nod, “Yeah … Yeah we will …”

Calling over another uniformed officer, he handed over the photographs and explained where they had been found and ordered them to look around the rest of the house to see if anyone found anything else. Turning his attention back to his husband, he frowned when he saw that he looked almost shell-shocked. “Cmon, Shawn … Lets go get some breakfast. I heard that Joe’s Pancake House has a pineapple upside down pancake?”

This seemed to snap Shawn out of his mind. “Yeah! That sounds great, Lassie-pants!”

“Meet me out in the car?” He asked, handing Shawn the keys. “You’re in the  _ passenger seat _ ,” He reminded Shawn as the fake psychic practically ran off, most likely ready to jump into the driver’s seat.

Carlton frowned as he wandered over to his partner. “I’m taking him to breakfast …”

“I overheard what you said to Officer Jones,” She said, a frown plastered onto her own face. “How’s he holding up?”

“Not well … He’s not going to say anything, but …” Carlton paused to look in the direction Shawn had left in. “I can tell he’s not okay. I can’t say that I blame him. It’s hard to look at those pictures and not … have those memories ruined. Someone was watching us this whole time. Times when we thought we were sharing something private between us, someone was watching. Someone who got fed up with watching.”

Juliet glanced to the room with the dead body at Carlton’s comment. “The question is … Is this supposed to impress Shawn … Or serve as a threat?”

“Maybe both.”

She sighed, crossing her arms over her chest, “I’ve got this handled … Go get your breakfast. I’ll see you at lunchtime?”

Carlton nodded. “If you have any breakthroughs …”

“Call you. I know, Carlton.”

He smiled proudly. Juliet had come so far in her time with the department, under his wing. When she had first been assigned under him, he would have worked this case 24/7 until it was solved. However, Carlton knew that while he was gone, Juliet would work just as hard, if not harder, on this case as he would. He could trust her.

“Thanks …” He said before making his way back to the car. Surprisingly, Shawn was sitting in the passenger seat, staring straight ahead. Carlton’s frown returned full force. The fact that he was sitting that way meant that this was getting to Shawn more than he was letting on.

Climbing into the car, he watched as Shawn’s attitude switched to his normal attitude. “About time! I was about to get those pancakes by myself!”

“ _ Shawn _ ,” He said sternly, watching as his husband flinched ever slightly at his tone.

“ _ Carly _ ,” He mimicked.

Carlton reached over, taking Shawn’s hand in his own. “Don’t do that.” He held up his hand as he saw Shawn about to question him. “Do  _ not  _ pretend that everything is okay. If it’s not okay, we talk about it, right?”

Shawn looked prepared to argue before he deflated some. He sighed, “Whoever this is … They’ve been following me since the beginning. For who knows how long … They’ve escalated  _ immensely _ .” He paused. “Carlton, if I haven’t noticed that someone following me for  _ four years _ , how the hell am I supposed to find them? I don’t … I don’t have those kind of ‘powers’ …”

Wrapping his arms around Shawn as best as he could, he ran his hands up and down his husband’s back. “Its okay, Shawn. We’re going to find them the old fashioned way …” Placing a kiss to his temple, he gave a small smile. “Lets go get those pancakes and work out what we know so far, okay?”

Nodding against Carlton’s shoulder, Shawn gave a small sigh and sat back in the chair. “These pancakes better be the best pineapple upside down pancakes I’ve ever had in my life.”

Carlton chuckled, settling back in his own seat to drive them. “And just how many pineapple upside down pancakes have you had?”

“Ones that I’ve made or ones that I’ve bought?”

“Either.”

“Well … I’ve made them a lot of times … But it’s not too difficult to make pancakes better than I make,” Shawn said thoughtfully. “I’ve had a few professional ones that were pretty damn good … But none in Santa Barbara.”

“Then I hope it lives up to your expectations,” He said with a chuckle.

It didn’t take long for him to pull up to the pancake house and find parking. Carlton led Shawn inside and found them a booth. Once they’d ordered their respective meals and Carlton had his coffee placed in front of him, he sighed. “This case …”

He felt his heart clench slightly at the way Shawn’s attitude changed at just the mention of the case. Shawn gave a stiff nod, “It has to be someone who has been close by …”

“Well obviously. They have to be close by to take those photographs.”

“No, I mean,” Shawn started, “It has to be someone who we’ve talked to before. A waitress, a criminal … I’d say it was someone  _ we _ put away, but a couple of those pictures were from before we got together and before I started the consulting. Maybe one of my exes?”

Carlton pulled out his notepad, starting to jot down all of the ideas Shawn came up with. “Maybe it’d be easier to start with the basics? This looks like it has to be a male. To overpower some of those guys …”

“Not necessarily. It could be a woman … Either she’s really strong or she coerced someone to help her …” He said, playing with his straw.

“What about the shoe print?”

“I still think that was placed there. Either they brought in a shoe or they used the dead man’s shoe.”

Carlton gave a small nod as he jotted down the ideas. Times like this, he actually missed trying to work something like this out at the Psych office with Shawn’s whiteboard. “How about this …” Carlton started, “I get copies of the photos and we go picture by picture to try and see if you remember seeing anyone repeatedly.”

“It’s a good idea, but might not necessarily work. Especially if they were hiding …”

“It still might help. Didn’t you one time reconstruct an entire  _ classroom _ from  _ elementary _ school to find out who threw a spitball?”

Shawn paused, “You remember me telling you that story?”

“Shawn, contrary to popular belief, I actually do listen to you most of the time.”

A faint blush crept across the fake psychic’s cheeks and he was grateful for the distraction of food being placed in front of him. Immediately stuffing his mouth full of pancake, he grinned, “Oh man. These are definitely top three, that’s for sure.”

Seeing his husband happy and distracted from the case made Carlton smile. “Guess we have a new pancake house to go to …”

Spending the rest of the morning in idle chit-chat while they enjoyed their pancakes, they soon made their way to the station where things were in full swing. Carlton was able to obtain copies of the photographs, handing them over to Shawn. “Do you want a quiet area to work in?”

“Yeah,” he responded with a nod. “Quieter the better … I don’t really know what I’m looking for. It’s not like the whole Jimmy Nickles thing. I knew what thread I needed to follow … Here, I’m just looking for a needle in a haystack.”

Carlton gave a nod as he led him to one of the interrogation room offices that was never used. “Start with the coffee shop. Think back to all of your regulars. If you can start with a list of those … Maybe that will get us somewhere?” Gathering some paper and pens for Shawn to work with, he offered a reassuring smile. “You can do this …”

“I’m glad one of us has faith,” He said with a laugh. “Lets just hope I can come up with a lead before it’s too late.”

“If you need anything, let me know. You can call up to my desk from that phone,” Carlton said as he gave a nod towards the office phone on the wall.

“Got it, hot stuff~”

Carlton shook his head before heading back to his desk to go over the case. By dinner time, Carlton’s stomach alerted him that it was time to go and he was surprised to even realize it had gotten so late. He had expected to see or hear something from his husband but for him to be silent for hours was suspicious. Maybe he had gotten caught up in his work?

Packing up, he ventured down to the interrogation room, opening the door before pausing. Where was Shawn? The room was empty, except for the photographs he’d left the male with. A few notes had been scribbled down, but other than that, it was as if he’d simply vanished. Immediately, Carlton jogged up to the front desk, “Did Shawn come through here?!”

“Shawn Spencer?” The woman asked. “Oh! Yes … He left a few hours ago with an officer. He mentioned something about a smoothie run? Come to think of it, I never saw them come back …”

Immediately dialing Shawn’s number produced the exact outcome he expected: straight to voicemail. 

“I need surveillance  _ now _ !”

Running back through the video feeds with one of the officers in the security booth, he scowled as he watched his husband chatting excitedly with a uniformed woman who seemed to be adept at hiding her face from the cameras. She had clearly been there numerous times and knew the layout of the cameras. Jabbing his finger at the screen, he growled, “Who is that woman?!”

Squinting, one of the officers in the room thought it over. “I think that’s the new girl … Rodriguez?”

Another officer turned in his chair, “The brunette? Nah, I think her name is Rogers.”

“You sure that’s the right one, man?” The first officer asked.

“Yeah. She works with forensics sometimes? Taking photos? Pretty sure it’s Rogers. Or maybe Roberts?”

Carlton frowned, “A forensic photographer? How long has she been here?”

“Not too long … Maybe five or six months? Honestly, I’m not really sure. Could’ve been longer. Don’t see her too often,” He said. “She manages to get out of desk duty somehow. She’s real friendly if you can actually manage to run into her and talk to her for a bit.”

Carlton immediately ran to his desk. Combing through the more recent photographs of the serial killer’s crime scene. Searching for the photographer’s information he was met with various last names: Rodriguez, Rogers, Roberts, Rollins, Rhodes. However, the first name remained the same.

_ Shawn. _


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay another chapter! I hope you are all excited. I do have almost all of the story written so ... As long as I have time to finish and edit, it should be done before or on Christmas! Things are still pretty crazy at work, so I wont make any promises but ... We'll see! Until then, enjoy! As always, thank you all so much for all your comments/kudos/bookmarks! I'm always thrilled to see everyone's reactions! Also, sorry not sorry for the amount of cliff hangers in this part of the saga.

It had been there, in front of their faces the whole time. The photographer that had run into Shawn earlier that morning, no doubt was their suspect. She had carefully infiltrated the station and their lives and they had never saw it coming. 

Now she had Shawn.

Moving to Juliet’s desk as she was packing her things, he slammed the papers on her desk, “Shawn’s gone.”

“What?”

“He went with an officer, no one knows who she really is,  _ hours _ ago for a smoothie run and hasn’t come back.”

“Carlton, maybe they just got to talking and didn’t realize what time it was …”

“His phone is going straight to voicemail!”

“Maybe it died? How many times has that happened? You even got him that portable charger!”

Carlton paced some by her desk, “O’Hara. Listen to me, this is our suspect; I just know it! Look, the photographer … No one really remembers too much about her. She’s good at keeping out of the public eye and she knows where the cameras are.” He paused in order to point to the names on the folders. “All the last names are names that officers remember her giving … And all the first names are the same: Shawn! Don’t you see, O’Hara?!”

The woman held up her hands to try and calm her partner, “I see, Carlton but … We need to take a moment to think this over. That’s a really long leap to take. Did you check the cameras to see Shawn leave?”

“Yes! That was the first thing I did after I tried calling him!”

“Did he look like he was in danger? Panicking? Sending weird Shawn smoke-signals from the spirits?”

The detective frowned as he watched her, “No …”

Juliet sighed and crossed her arms over her chest, “I want to tell you to go with your gut feeling, I really do, Carlton. It’s usually right ...  but let’s face it: ever since we were put on this case, you’ve been on edge, just  _ waiting _ for something to happen. I’m sure more than once you heard a thump in the night and probably drew your gun.”

Carlton’s ears turned red at the accusation he knew to be true.

“Now, Shawn leaves to get smoothies with a coworker and the only suspicious things are the fact that he’s not back and he’s not answering his phone; I’m not even going to include the pictures since, while it’s …  _ strange _ , I don’t think we can count it as evidence yet. How many times has Shawn disappeared with Gus?” 

“O’Hara, you and I both know that leaving with Guster is completely different from--”

“What happens if you cry wolf? If you put out a BOLO based on those two things and it just turns out that he lost track of time and his phone died, which I might remind you, happens more often than should. What would the Chief say?”

“She’d probably ask me if I checked to make sure he didn’t go home.”

“Exactly. You know how Shawn is. Maybe he went to the Psych office? You know he can channel the spirits better there.” Carlton tried hard not to roll his eyes at the comment. “Check the smoothie place, the Psych office, and your home … If he’s not there, then we have a much stronger case. We bring it to the Chief first.”

Sighing, the older detective gave a curt nod. “You’re right, O’Hara. I’m leaving now.”

“Let me know if you don’t find him,” She said, the promise of helping him find Shawn unsaid between them.

“Of course …” He turned before pausing. “And … Thank you, Juliet.”

Juliet smiled brightly, giving him a nod in response before Carlton headed out. As much as he didn’t want to waste time, he knew she was right. Shawn had a bad habit of disappearing only to show up later with a confused look as to why Carlton was so worried. He  _ had _ gotten better about it in the last year, however. The first stop was the smoothie joint. Practically jogging in, he frowned as he saw no Shawn in the small cafe. Walking up to the counter, he held up a picture of Shawn he carried in his wallet, “Have you seen this man?”

“I don’t think I’m supposed to tell strangers things like that … What if he’s in witness protection?” The girl asked, shifting awkwardly.

Moving his suit jacket to show off his badge, he watched the girl go pale. “Not only am I a detective, this is my  _ husband _ . I’m trying to find him.”

“Today?” The teenager behind the counter asked, staring at the picture some. “Uhm … Yes! With a brunette woman …” Immediately her hand shot up to cover her mouth. “Oh no … He’s not like …  _ cheating _ on you, is he?!”

“No, he’s not,” He grumbled. “I think he may be in danger though …”

“From that woman?” She asked. “They seemed like they were good friends? They were just chit-chatting and they got smoothies before heading out towards the pier?”

“What time? They didn’t say anything strange?”

“Hmmm … It was probably … A couple hours ago?” She said with a shrug, “I mean, they were talking a lot about Wham! which is … Kind of weird. Who talks that much about an old band?”

“Shawn does,” He grumbled. Murmuring his thanks, he headed out before jogging down the street in the direction the cashier had pointed. Nothing. There was nothing. Maybe Shawn really had gone to Psych? When Shawn really needed to concentrate, that’s generally where Carlton could find him, away from prying eyes so he could work his real magic in peace.

It didn’t take long for Carlton to find himself pulling up at the small office building. Inside, the light was on and he found his shoulders slump in relief. Slipping into the office, using the key Shawn had given him, he scowled, “SHAWN! Do you have any idea how worried--”

Gus looked up at Carlton from where he sat at his desk. “Just me here.  _ Someone _ has to pay the bills …”

Moving further into the room, Carlton frowned as he looked around to see if Shawn was there. “You haven’t seen Shawn?”

“Not today? Did he run off somewhere?”

Carlton flopped down in Shawn’s chair. Pausing a moment, he pulled an alien stress reliever ball from under him before sitting back in the chair comfortably as he squeezed the stress ball repeatedly. “I think something’s wrong. I think he’s been taken by the serial killer …”

“What?! Why are you here then?!”

“Because … It’s still possible he’s just hanging out with one of the officers at the station.”

“I’m confused …”

Running a hand over his face, Carlton quickly explained everything that had happened. “If he’s been taken, we’re running out of time …” He said, squeezing the stress ball hard enough it looked as though one of the alien’s eyes would pop.

Gus frowned as he took in the information, “Let me try calling him?”

Carlton waved him on, letting Gus try. Maybe Shawn was mad at him for something and he wouldn’t answer his calls, but would answer Gus’? It still didn’t make any sense considering Shawn’s phone had to have been off for it to go straight to voicemail when he called.

Gus looked at his phone as if it had betrayed him. “He didn’t answer -- went straight to voicemail.”

“That’s the same thing I got.”

“You think his phone died?”

He really didn’t. His gut was telling him this was something more and he wanted to shake everyone that told him otherwise to get them to believe him. This was one time he didn’t want to rub an ‘I-told-you-so’ in someone’s face. “I hope so, but … I don’t think so. O’Hara thought the same thing; about his phone dying, I mean. I doubt he brought his charger with us today …”

Watching as Gus sat back in his chair to assess the situation, Carlton stood. “I’m going back to the house. Hopefully … He’s there and he just fell asleep. Some sort of food coma.” It still wouldn’t make up for the events that had transpired so far, but at least Shawn would have been  _ safe _ . 

“I’ll go check our usual hangouts … See if he ran into another friend or something. I’ll call you with the details?”

Carlton nodded. Alright. They had a plan. At least Gus seemed to be on board with his ‘this doesn’t seem right’ feeling. “I’ll let you know if I find him at the house,” he promised before hopping back into the quiet of his car.

The silence was almost deafening and Carlton found himself filling the void with various things: anger (“I swear Shawn, you are going to be without sex for a  _ week _ for this stunt if you’re sitting at home!”), bargaining (“Shawn … If you’re there, I’ll buy you pineapple smoothies for an entire month. No …  _ Two _ months!”), and even prayer (“God … I know I’ve been kind of quiet lately, but please … Let him be alright.”). 

The short ride seemed to take hours before he pulled into their driveway, immediately hopping out of the car as he saw the lights on in the house. Had they left them on? He couldn’t remember. They had left so quickly this morning, it was entirely possible. Slipping into the house, he pulled his gun out, just in case. 

The feeling that something wasn’t right just wouldn’t go away.

Sweeping through his home, nothing seemed out of place; at least, not on first glance. However, there was still no Shawn. His phone rang and he frowned as he saw the name. “Guster.”

“Any luck on your end, Lassiter?”

“Nothing. Lights are on but Shawn’s not here.”

A sigh came from the other end of the line, “No luck here either. None of our regular places have seen him today.”

Great. Just great. “Then we need to come up with a better game plan. Let’s meet back at Psych and get O’Hara caught up. Then we’ll go to the Chief and see if we can get a BOLO on him or the officer he left with.”

“That sounds like a plan. I’ll meet you there.”

As soon as he had hung up on Gus, he called his partner, waiting somewhat impatiently for her to pick up the phone.

“O’Hara.”

“We still can’t find Shawn. I found Gus at Psych. He hadn’t seen him either. He searched Shawn’s usual hangouts, while I came back to the house. Neither of us found any clues, so we’re going to meet up at Psych. Can you join?”

“Absolutely. Let me put my shoes on and I’ll be right there.”

“Thank you.”

“And Carlton?”

“Hmm?”

“We’re going to find him.”

Carlton gave the tiniest smile at this, “I know we will, O’Hara. I’m just worried whether we’re going to find him alive or dead.”

Shoving his phone back into his pocket, Carlton returned his gun to his holster. He needed a drink. Really, he needed to find his husband, who, for all intents and purposes, disappeared without a trace. Readying himself to leave, he paused as he noticed something on the coffee table.

Had they left a box there? Maybe that was why something seemed wrong?

Maybe it was something Shawn had grabbed this morning and he hadn’t seen it until now?  Walking over to it, he looked around it. There didn’t seem to be any wires on the outside. Carefully opening it, he felt the color drain from his face. 

Inside, was a golden band with a pineapple engraved inside. 

Covered in blood.

Digging into his pocket to pull out a glove, he put it on just in case there were fingerprints or DNA, before picking up the ring. As he did so, he felt a small snap from a small, nearly invisible wire that had been tied around the ring.

With that, he heard the ticking begin.

Seconds later, the box exploded.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woo hoo! Another chapter. Another cliff hanger. The plus side is ... There's only one more chapter to go! (And then an epilogue because I know y'all will wanna know what happens after ... At least, I always want to after a story ends.) As always, thank you so much for reading, commenting, leaving kudos, and bookmarking! I'm so glad that so many people are enjoying this story; it makes me super happy ; u;

The hour or so went by in a whirlwind.

Carlton remembered very little before coming to on a gurney, sitting in the back of the ambulance, covered in ash, blood, burns, glass from his front window, and who knew what else. His entire body throbbed in pain. His ears continued to ring and movement made his vision spin. He’d heard them telling him they were going to transport him to the hospital and he remembered shrugging them off, telling them he was fine as he clutched the hot piece of metal that was his husband’s wedding ring tightly in his still-gloved hand.

“Carlton!” Came the familiar yell from his partner. Sluggishly looking up at her, he tried to not let his vision swim. “Oh thank god you’re okay! What happened?!”

Licking his dry lips, which tasted of the ash of his burnt home, he held up the ring slightly. “I found this … After I called you …” He said, voice hoarse. “It’s Shawn’s … was covered in blood. When I pulled it … heard ticking … realized bomb … jumped out window.”

Juliet looked back to the house, where firefighters were still putting out some of the smaller fires, to see the front window had been blown out. “Alright, Carlton … We need to get you to the hospital so you can get checked out and I’ll bring all this information to the Chief, okay? She’s already on her way over …”

He shook his head just slightly enough so his head wouldn’t spin. “I need … to find Shawn …”

“We’re going to find him, Carlton … But you need to be tended to first. Let us look while you go get patched up, okay? It’s better to spend five minutes at the hospital now to get all fixed up than to let something get worse and then spend  _ days _ or  _ weeks _ at the hospital because you let it sit.”

Okay, that logic made somewhat sense. He gave a small nod and Juliet motioned for the paramedics to get the ambulance going already. “I promise I’ll keep you updated, Carlton! As soon as I’m allowed to visit, I’ll give you information!”

With that promise, Carlton let himself be doped up with whatever was in the IV bag, and fell fast asleep.

By the time he came around to the sound of his heartbeat monitor, he hoped that not much time had passed. There was still too much work to do. Trying to sit up, he groaned in pain. 

“Hey now … It’s okay …” came a familiar voice. Carlton opened his eyes to see Juliet hovering over him with a worried look. “How are you doing Carlton?”

“What time is it?”

“It’s about nine o’clock at night … On Sunday … ” She said, “It’s been about twenty four hours since your accident.”

“Twenty four hours?!” He asked, voice scratchy still.

She sighed as she grabbed a cup of water for him to drink. “You had a lot of glass shards in you. A couple of them were pretty deep, so you got some nice stitches … You also had a couple burns that needed to be looked at and you’d also managed to dislocate your shoulder when you landed on it. Thankfully nothing too serious; it looked worse than it actually was, but you needed to rest.”

“Did you find Shawn?”

Juliet paused, as if debating whether or not to tell him the truth, before shaking her head. “Not yet … There’s been no sign of him.” She shifted on her feet, clearly not wanting to give him more bad news. “The blood on the ring, what forensics was able to get, was definitely Shawn’s.”

Carlton’s blood ran cold and his heart rate spiked. “Carlton! Calm down … It’s okay … Shawn has got to be okay -- it was just a scare tactic for you, I’m sure of it …”

A nurse came in scolding Juliet for getting Carlton worked up. He heard the blood pounding in his ears as the nurse asked him questions that he tried to answer but all he could think of was his husband …  _ Dead _ . 

Shawn couldn’t be dead. He couldn’t bare to see that. If Shawn left him, as the nagging voice in the back of his mind always reminded him was possible, he’d always assumed it’d be like his ex-wife; divorce … Not thanks to a serial killer.

Once he’d calmed down again and Juliet was allowed to be in his room once more, she sighed. “Doctors said you can be out of here tomorrow morning as long as your vitals all look good.”

“Good … We need to find Shawn.”

“And  _ you _ can’t overdo it, Carlton.”

He scowled, knowing she was right. “It’s already been over twenty four hours since he was taken … Or … left. Whatever it was. This killer isn’t playing a little game anymore.”

Juliet nodded as she got out her notepad. “At approximately two p.m. on Saturday, Shawn left with an officer. Possible suspect is … Currently Jane Doe. All records of her have been wiped from the database and we don’t have any photos of her. At approximately 8:45 p.m. on Saturday, a bomb went off in your house, triggered by the ring you found. Shawn’s cell phone is going immediately to voicemail and it hasn’t been able to be traced to anywhere specific yet.”

“So we have a bunch of nothing …”

“Unfortunately.  _ But _ … We do have his face plastered on tv and ads, so … Hopefully someone will have seen him and be able to give us some more information,” She explained. “Henry and Gus are out on the streets trying to check any of his usual hangouts. I think his dad might also be calling in some favors from his old buddies that were on the force with him, on top of that.”

Carlton frowned some. Now the killer had Shawn  _ and _ had a reason to keep him in one spot. On the one hand, keeping him in one spot would help the police; much like when someone stays put when lost in the woods. On the other hand, if she got bored, it would be easy for her to get rid of him. Shawn was already clearly hurt, judging by the blood that he’d found the ring in. However … At least Carlton hadn’t found a  _ finger _ .

“Whoever this person is, is obsessed with Shawn. Had been from the beginning … For years they’ve been obsessed with him. Now they have him,” He said quietly. “They worked their way up. When they couldn’t get his attention as Jane Doe off the street, they worked to get his attention as a perp. We’re not dealing with someone in their right mind.”

“We rarely do,” Juliet responded. “But I understand what you mean.”

She sighed as she stood, gently patting his leg, “Get some rest, Carlton. We’ll talk about it tomorrow. That’s all we can do for now, until we get a lead.”

Begrudgingly, Carlton nodded. He knew she was right. Bidding her a good night, he sighed. Tomorrow. Tomorrow he was getting the hell out of there and finding his husband.

As soon as he was released from the hospital, Carlton was back in the office. He’d already gotten the ‘don’t do anything stupid’ speech from the Chief and was hard at work, looking through the newspaper articles of Shawn. Surely, if this person had been stalking them all this time, they would have shown up somewhere?

He tried to ignore the way that the entire department seemed to just …  _ hover _ . They knew what had happened to him and they kept giving him the pity eyes that he hated. Someone had even gotten his coffee …  _ and got it right _ . If that was what it took to get his coffee order right, he wished he was rich enough to have more houses explode. By lunch, he’d left to go to the bathroom and when he came back, there was an entire meal from the local burger joint. He nearly dumped it in the trash (it could have been poisoned!) before Juliet fessed up to being the one to buy it.

With no news from Shawn, the day seemed to be going too quickly for Carlton’s liking. However, by mid-afternoon, he’d finally found something. “O’Hara!”

“Did you get something?” She asked as she rushed over.

Laying out the newspapers, he had circled a figure in some of them and highlighted passages from another. “She’s here … She’s in some of these!” Pointing to a few of the circles, there were blurry shots of what looked to be a brunette woman in the background with the rest of the crowd. Rarely was there a full shot of her face, but it should be enough for them to get a composite image of. 

“If she’s not in the picture, there are quotes from her.” Throughout the newspapers, the highlighted passages showed quotes from Rogers, Rodriguez, and Roberts; all with Shawn as a first name again.

Carlton put the images in one pile and the names in another, “We need to get one of the artists to make a composite and see if we get any hits from there. Double down on our efforts … “

Juliet nodded, “I’ll take these down there and get them started on this okay? Take a break. You’ve been at this nonstop …”

Giving a reluctant nod, he let her go off before wandering off to take a break. When he came back, there was a package on his desk. As he got closer, the package began to ring. “What the … hell?”

Carlton rushed over to the package, carefully opening it, as if he hadn’t just had a brush with death previously and dumped out a phone that had red, possible blood, stains on it. Grabbing his handkerchief, he pressed the call button before carefully holding the phone up to his ear. “... Hello?”

“Hey Lassie … It’s me.”

“Shawn?!” He practically yelled as he saw some of the officers around him jump into gear, telling others that Shawn was calling. “Shawn, where are you?!”

“Can’t say, Lassie … Dunno where I’m at …” Came the weak laugh. The male was in clear pain on the other end. “Just wanted to tell you how much I loved you … My uh … My friend here isn’t going to play cat and mouse for too much longer. She won. Pretty friggin brilliantly, I should say …”

“Shawn … I need something, tell me anything about where you are …”

“I don’t know, Lass. It’s dark. My head’s spinning … All my psychic juju is gone. Just like when we first met,” Came the tired voice. “Oh … She’s running out of patience. Shouldn’t keep my host waiting for too long.”

“Give me something dammit!"

“Hey now … You’ve always been demanding, y’know. Even when whatever you want is right in front of you, always demanding.” A pause. “I love you, Carlton.”

A gunshot echoes in the phone’s receiver.

Silence follows. 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is! The big "IS SHAWN OKAY??" moment everyone's been waiting for!
> 
> Fun fact: going through a couple law enforcement citizen's academies actually helped give me a lot of insight into writing these fics! If you ever get the chance to participate in your local law enforcement citizen's academy (or the FBI citizen's academy) DO IT! I honestly had a blast and you learn a lot of really interesting things. (I promise that I make no money off of promoting that; I just realized how much I used things I learned in this fic haha).
> 
> As always, thank you all so much for all of your comments, kudos, bookmarks, etc! I love reading your reactions to this fic; some of them I've had to share with my friends because they made me laugh and smile so much! I wish I could have gone through each one and responded, but I've been extremely busy at work, so I haven't really had the chance. And though this may be the last chapter, there will be an Epilogue (because I'm a sucker for those), so stay tuned next week! Thank you so much again!!

The gunshot rings in Carlton’s ears and he’s frozen in place. He’s vaguely aware that at some point he yelled Shawn’s name and now there were people frantically trying to talk to him as he tried to listen for any other sound on the other end of the phone. It all comes rushing back to him at once as Juliet forced him to look at her.

“Carlton?! Carlton what happened?!”

“I … I don’t know … There was a gunshot … Shawn …” Carlton felt his breathing catch in his chest, “I don’t think--”

“Stop that! Shawn is going to be fine. What did Shawn say to you? Did he give you anything?”

Carlton was vaguely aware of someone taking the phone from him--forensics--and the package that the phone had come in. “He said … No, he didn’t give me anything. He said he didn’t know where he was at …” Swallowing the lump in his throat, he frowned, “He confirmed a female suspect … Admitted that she won …” He felt helpless. He’d been trying to tell them something was wrong! If they had jumped on this quicker … He should have made them listen. He should have gone on his own to find Shawn ...

Juliet ran a comforting hand over his back. “We’re going to find him, Carlton.”

“There was a gunshot, O’Hara …” 

“That doesn’t mean anything. He could still be fine. It just means we need to keep our heads level and double our efforts …”

Chief Vick cleared her throat from where she’d been standing close to them, addressing the entire department. “All available officers: you are all looking for Mr. Spencer now, if you weren’t before. We’re all familiar with what he looks like; if not, take a look around: there’s missing posters all over this office. With the information provided, we need to assume that Mr. Spencer is injured and we need to work with speed. Move with a purpose, ladies and gentlemen,” She said in her commanding voice. As soon as she’d said that, she began to point out officers, assigning them to specific blocks. “Once you find something, radio it in. I need my dispatchers to be on the lookout for anything strange. Have we gotten any phone calls about gunshots?”

As she moved off to get information, Juliet helped Carlton sit in his seat, still shell-shocked. “Do you need anything, Carlton?” She asked.

A brief shake of his head sent his head spinning. He felt like he was going to be sick.

Juliet knelt down to lower herself into his field of vision. “Carlton. I know this is hard. You and I have been through a lot together, and so have you and Shawn. This is what I need from you …” She paused until she saw he was listening, putting on her stern face. “I need you … to treat this like any other case. Forget who the victim is. I need Carlton at one hundred percent so that we can find him. Okay? I know that’s a lot to ask …”

“You’re right, O’Hara,” He said simply, surprising her. He knew what he needed to do. “You’re right. I … Lets get some air.”

She nodded with a small smile, “I think it stopped raining. C’mon …”

Leading him outside, Carlton took a few deep breaths, letting the fresh rain scent clear his mind. His hand itched to take apart his gun as he took apart the case. Instead, he ran through it in his mind.

Shawn had been taken roughly forty eight hours ago.

His kidnapper had stalked Shawn for years, killed several people, and seemed to have no qualms about killing Shawn now.

Nearly thirty minutes had passed since the phone call, according to his watch.

Shawn was hurt.  _ Shawn might be dead _ .

“I’m going for a walk,” He said with a small frown. “I need to clear my head.”

Juliet looked as though she wanted to protest but gave a nod instead. “I’ll let the Chief know. As soon as we get more information, I’ll call you okay?”

“Thank you, Juliet,” He said before starting off down the street, letting his feet take him away from the bustling precinct and sound of sirens.

They were running out of time. Possibly had _ already _ run out of time. Running in circles with no clues. This would be the time that Shawn would rub his ‘psychic abilities’ in their face and somehow have the whole thing figured out just from one little glance at something hidden in plain sight or something he heard.

Psychic abilities. Psychic juju. 

Shawn had said his psychic juju was gone, but Carlton knew that. He'd always known the other was a fraud, so why had he even bothered to bring it up?

_ Unless _ ...

Carlton paused outside one of the gaudy, overly ridiculous boutique stores that Shawn loved to make fun of so much and played back what Shawn had told him on the phone. His husband would have known that he should go with his kidnapper’s demands instead of against them; so he would have kept his location a secret. However, Shawn would have gotten it across to him somehow. He didn’t have any texts; he doubted that the kidnapper actually let him hold the phone in the first place.

‘ _ Think, Carlton, think, _ ’ he thought to himself, trying to listen carefully to Shawn’s words. He’d even mentioned that whatever Carlton wanted was right in front of him. Shawn’s mention of his psychic juju being gone kept nagging at him until it hit him like a brick wall. 

_ Just like we first met.  _ Shawn was at the coffee shop! 

Immediately, he whipped his phone out of his pocket, dialing O’Hara’s number as he began to run in that direction. “He’s at the coffee shop! Shawn’s at the coffee shop we met at!”

“What? O-Okay! I’ll get officers moving in that direction!”

“I’m already on my way! Get medical there!” Hanging up, he made a sharp right towards the coffee shop.

_ Don’t let him be dead. Don’t let him be dead. _

It was the mantra screaming through Carlton’s brain as he ran through the damp alleyway towards his destination.

_ He can’t be dead. Don’t let him be dead.  _

He was running out of time and he knew it. If he had just listened. If he had just stopped for one goddamn minute and listened to what Shawn had been saying on the phone. What Shawn had told him … It had been right there in front of him the entire time! Shawn had even  _ told _ him it was in front of him!

The coffee shop had actually left a few months ago, unfortunately. Shawn and Carlton had already mourned it’s loss, but the owner had found better opportunities and they couldn’t fault them for that. Since then, the building had been up for lease with no takers, blending into the background. It was a perfect place to hide.

Pulling his gun from his holster, he came around the back of the shop and quietly slipped into the building. Why so many criminals had gotten so comfortable and left entryways open, he had no idea. If it had been him … No, he didn’t have time for this.

As he quietly made his way through the dark former kitchen, he could already smell blood. Finally hearing a humming, which turned into a woman speaking to herself, Carlton aimed his weapon towards the sound. Coming out of the double doors, moving with deadly precision, he frowned as he saw the windows all had their shades drawn, preventing the outside world from seeing the destruction the woman in front of him had caused.

Shawn was tied to a chair, head slumped backwards and more pale than Carlton had ever seen him, multiple wounds littered his arms from where he stood and a rather nice puddle of blood underneath. Some of the wounds were clear deep knife marks that had been amateurishly stitched closed.

The bitch who’d done it danced around his husband’s body gleefully, a gun in her hand.

“SBPD. Drop your weapon and put your hands up!” He commanded.

The woman jumped, turning to look at him. When she registered who he was, she grinned happily, “Oh~ Carlton~ So happy that you’re able to join us~”

“ _ Drop your weapon and put your hands up. _ ”

Once again the woman ignored the comment and laughed, “I don’t know how he managed to tell you where we were~ He said his psychic powers were gone but … Is that really true?” She didn’t give him a chance to speak, “He should have been mine, you know? I asked him out before and he turned me down. Then he found  _ you _ .”

“Drop. Your weapon. And put your hands up,” Carlton repeated, gun still raised as he moved slowly towards her.

“You were all he wanted to look at! He ignored me! So I made him look at me. Made him  _ want me _ ,” She said as she moved over, grabbing Shawn’s hair with her free hand, moving his limp head around. “And you know what? … He was  _ boring _ . More boring than the others. He didn’t feel the same pain I went through like the others! He just kept saying that you were coming to save him. That  _ you _ knew who I was. That  _ you _ were his knight in shining armor and that he made the right decision being with you …” She paused to look him directly in the eyes, “So I killed him. Shot him while you were on the phone with him.”

Carlton almost felt sick as she continued. “Clearly … I chose the wrong person … I should have been with you, Carlton … You would have sang so beautifully as I tore into you …” She rose her gun to him and he wasted no time shooting twice in her chest. 

As soon as he saw her falling backwards, Carlton rushed to Shawn’s side, checking for a pulse just as he heard Juliet burst through the door. He could have cried happily as he felt the pulse; weak, but there. “He’s alive! We need medics immediately!” he yelled, cutting the ropes holding Shawn to the chair.

Once he’d yelled for paramedics, they rushed in and got to work. Carlton looked torn between staying with them and dealing with the psychopath who writhed on the floor, gasping for air, as a second set of paramedics rushed in for her. Juliet, her gun trained on the woman, nodded towards Carlton, “You go with Shawn, we’ll handle her.”

Carlton gave a stiff nod as he hopped into the ambulance with Shawn. As soon as they arrived at the hospital and Shawn was rushed back, Carlton was forced to sit in the waiting room. He sent a text message to Gus to let him know where he was before dialing Shawn’s dad to let him know as well, in case they had separated from each other in their searching.

“Carlton, you better have some good news.”

“We found him, Henry,” He said, running a tired hand over his face.

“I hear a ‘but’ coming.”

“He was in bad shape. If I’d been any later--”

“But you weren’t,” Henry said, cutting him off. “You got to him in time. My son is stubborn enough to keep going … He’ll be fine. Don’t you think for a second he won’t be.”

Carlton nodded, though he knew Henry couldn’t see. He was right, but he could hear the underlying tone in his father in law’s voice. Henry was just as terrified as he was that they were going to lose Shawn. “You’re right.”

“I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

“Thanks, Henry.”

Hanging his head, he knew all he could do was wait. The hours ticked on and soon he was joined by Henry, Gus, and eventually Juliet and Chief Vick. Finally, a doctor wandered out, looking rather grave as he searched the waiting room. “Mr. Lassiter?”

Carlton jumped up, moving over to him, “How is he?!”

“Mr. Spencer has been through … Quite an ordeal.” Carlton wanted to punch him for the stupid comment. “A multitude of lacerations, a gunshot to the leg that shattered his bone, significant blood loss …” Each comment was like a stab to the chest. It could have all been prevented. “It was touch and go for a while. We lost him once on the table … But, Mr. Spencer is a fighter. He’ll be just fine.”

Carlton felt faint at the comment. Shawn was going to be okay.  _ Shawn was going to be okay! _

The doctor gave a small chuckle, “As soon as we get him settled in a room, immediate family will be let in. We’ll send a nurse out.”

“Thank you … Thank you, doctor.”

“It’s all part of the job.”

It wasn't long before the nurse had let them know that Shawn was in his room but he would probably be knocked out for a while longer with the pain meds they'd given him. Carlton and Henry made their way back to check on him.

Henry frowned as he saw the state his son was in but put a hand on Carlton's shoulder. “He got lucky to find you. If he hadn't … I'd probably be burying him now instead.”

He gave a small laugh. “That was almost on par with your speech at the wedding.”

Cracking a smile, he pat the shoulder he'd rested his hand on. “I'll leave him to you. Let me know when he wakes up?”

“Of course.”

Letting Henry leave, Carlton took up post next to Shawn's bed. He carefully took his bandaged hand in his own and waited patiently for his husband to wake.

Hours passed before Shawn finally began to stir. When he did, he saw Carlton and frowned before speaking in a raspy voice, “Well … if I'm dead then I'm pissed ‘cause how'd you die too?”

Snorting, he shook his head, “You're not dead, Shawn. You came damn close. Doctors said you flatlined once on their table. But … you're alive, thank God.”

“And Wendy?”

“Who?”

“The psychopath who lured me away with the sweet promises of smoothies?”

“Oh. I hadn't got her real name yet,” Carlton said with a frown. “Alive. With the addition of two bullet holes when she raised her gun at me … But she'll have her day in court and sweet lady Justice will take care of it.”

Shawn laughed dryly before Carlton lifted a cup of water to his lips. “I'm glad you got my message.”

“It took me way too long.”

“Just a little … But I knew you'd make it. I'd already dealt with her torture for two days, I knew I could hold on for a couple hours.”

Carlton looked down to Shawn's bandaged arms and frowned. He could have saved Shawn from all of this …

“Stop that, Carly. My brain hurts too much.”

“What?”

“You're blaming yourself too loudly. Like when you think too loud. Stop blaming yourself. None of us saw it coming and she was meticulous about not leaving evidence. Hell, I didn't even piece together who she was until we were leaving the smoothie place.”

“I should have gone after you immediately …”

“You did your job, Carlton,” Shawn said in the stern voice that always got his attention. “You saved the handsome Prince. So stop worrying about woulda, coulda, shouldas. You  _ did _ .”

Carlton sighed. “Okay, okay … You're right.”

“I'm always right.”

“Well, now you're wrong.”

Shawn gave him a grin before looking at his husband's arms, where his sleeves were rolled up, and then the few bandages that peeked out from his shirt collar and the one plastered on his face. “Lassifrass. Why are you all bandaged up?”

“Ah … about that … We’re going to need a new house.”

“Okay … Back up.  _ What? _ ”

After Carlton explained everything that had happened since Shawn had disappeared (the leads in the case, the bomb, the phone call), he held out Shawn's ring. “At least I was able to save this …”

Letting him put it back on his finger, Shawn looked relieved. “I actually thought I'd never see it again when she took it. I had no clue what she wanted it for; figured she just tossed it.” He paused, “Seriously? You jumped out a window like some action movie?”

“Explosion and all.”

“Ugh. I missed all the cool stuff.”

“I would have much rather had you by my side.”

Shawn grinned at Carlton, “You say the sweetest things, Carly.”

Carlton rolled his eyes, but smiled lovingly at his husband. “Get some sleep, Shawn. I’m sure you’re going to have a parade of people coming through here once they allow visitors in and you’re no doubt going to want to talk their ears off.”

“You’ll be here when I wake up right?”

“Always, Shawn. Always.”


End file.
